


Advantage

by Homer



Series: Supergirl - College AU Prompts [5]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bumbling Kara, F/F, I actually wrote something where they'll actually make out, Kara's sent to cover for the school paper, Lena in tennis skirts, Lena is Thirsty™, Lena plays Tennis, Student Athlete, Student Journalist, prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-10-18 17:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17584781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Homer/pseuds/Homer
Summary: Prompt:"You play on a college sport team and I’ve been assigned the sports column on the college newspaper. During the interview, you quickly realize that I have a bare minimum understanding of how the game works, so you invite me to come watch you practice."Kara's assigned the sports column for this issue of the NCU Collegiate - specifically the upcoming college tennis tourney. Her problem? She hasno ideahow tennis works.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quick college AU prompt fic strikes again! (And it's a two-shot this time :0)
> 
> I wrote this today cause I actually had a day off from college, we basically got dumped on (my back porch is covered in snow up to my _knees_ ). Also kinda wrote this because I won't be able to make it to the local annual USTA Tennis Open. It's always really fun and I miss playing all the time like I used to...
> 
> For those who read Make a Wish, Take a Chance - I'm still working on a new chapter, but I'm stuck. Darn writer's block :(

                “Jones? Fashion. Levalley? Check in with Marvin’s stats class survey on college alcohol consumption. Danvers? Sports – get the upcoming tennis tourney highlighted. Any questions? Great. Dismissed.”

                Kara stood from where she had been leaning against Professor Snapper’s office doorway. “I- uh, sir? I’ve never covered sports before-“

                “I’m aware. That’s exactly why you’re covering,” he replied, not looking up from a paper full of red pen marks.

                “I didn’t even know we had a tennis team? Where should I start?”

                Snapper sighs. “Danvers. The tennis court. Go from there.”

                “Oh! Yeah. Okay.”

                As Kara turned to leave, she heard Snapper mutter something about ‘helpless wannabes.’

/

                The first time Kara found the tennis courts, it was late in the afternoon and the sun was about to set. No one was playing. Well, there was an elderly couple hitting a ball back and forth, but that didn’t really count. The sun’s low lighting created a nice atmosphere for some photos, so Kara whipped out her phone and tried her best to take some good shots.

/

                The second time Kara found her way to the courts was around eleven in the morning; a class worth of students in lines filing to hit a tennis ball back and forth with an instructor. Curious, Kara decided she’d watch for a bit – she had the time after all.

                The instructor (coach?) yelled at students occasionally, talking about their stance or form. “extend your arm!” “follow through!” “Hope, you need to step into it. _Into_ it!”

                After watching the neon yellow-green ball bounce back and forth so much, Kara was starting to feel a little dizzy.

                A few courts down, a few girls were playing against each other two-on-two. It was a little hard to track the ball from a distance, but Kara could tell that they all had experience. The ball would make it from one side of the net to the other multiple times before someone seemed to make a point and positions would switch.

                Kara made a mental note to try to talk to them when they were done.

                The class of players eventually were whistled at and dismissed, a few students bothering to help their instructor pick up the many, many tennis balls that were still inside the fence (a few students apparently didn’t know the power of their own swing. Kara _definitely_ didn’t laugh at those hits).

                Picking her way down the metal bleachers, Kara tried to wave the instructor down. “Hey! Hi! Excuse me!”

                The instructor caught her eye as she was dumping a racket’s worth of tennis balls into a wire cage. “Can I help you?”

                “Hi! Yeah, I’m Kara Danvers, a student reporter with the NCU Collegiate. I’m writing an article on the upcoming tennis tourney that’s going to be hosted here and I had a few questions. Could you help?”

                “Sure thing." She extends a hand. "April Jaster – I’m an assistant coach for the tennis team.”

                Kara shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you. To be honest, I don’t know that much about tennis. I’m just glad I was able to catch a practice today! I could never figure out what times you’d be here.”

                “Practice? Oh no, that was one of the wellness classes. The team doesn’t have practice until tomorrow.”

                “Oh.”

                April laughs. “It’s alright. So you haven’t had any exposure to tennis before?”

                Kara shrugs. “Not really. I mean, I’d seen other students in high school practice on the courts as I walked by to my bus, but that’s about it.”

                “I understand. Tennis isn’t for everyone. It’s a great sport though. I’m sure with enough exposure you’ll come to love it.” She hefts the wire cage of tennis balls. “Walk with me?”

                “Sure.”

                April leads them over to a small building that stores athletic equipment. After she sets the ball cage down, she speaks. “Would you like to interview a few student athletes on the team? I’m sure a few would love to.”

                “Absolutely! It would be great to get an athletes perspective on how they feel about the tournament.”

                “I bet. What’s your student email? After I ask them I can email you a list of who’s willing to be interviewed.”

                “kdanvers@ncu.edu. This is great! Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.”

                “No problem at all. It may be a few days though.”

/

                _Hey, Kara!_

_Here’s a list of students from the NCU Women’s Tennis Team that are willing to be interviewed:_

_Freddie Martin_

_Valerie O’Connor_

_Lena Luthor_

_Carla Navarro_

_Send me whatever times you’re available to host interviews, and I’ll pass them along to the girls so they can fit their schedules._

_April Jaster_

_Assistant Tennis Coach_

_National City University, 100 Main St, National City CA_

_Go Cougars!_

                Kara quickly sent an email in response, before clicking back on the YouTube tab that was playing “ _Tennis for Dummies: Rules and Gameplay Explained_.”

/

                It turned out that between Kara’s own schedule and the four tennis players’, only one athlete could fit in the interview. Lena Luthor.

                Now, Kara had briefly looked up each player’s background in the sport; whatever else happened to be written about them was just bonus information in Kara’s book. Freddie was from Louisiana, had a total of six siblings. Valerie was from Massachusetts, her parents were both lawyers, but she chose to go into forensic science instead of following in her parent’s footsteps. Lena was from Metropolis, having started tennis in middle school and fell in love with the sport. According to one article, her parents found it to be a respectable enough sport to allow her to continue to play – but Lena preferred it because of how it combined strategy, strength, and stamina. Carla was from New Mexico, fluently bilingual and held a dual citizenship with the US and Mexico.

                Each girl was uniquely interesting, and Kara was happy that at least one of them were available to interview.

/

                Coach Jaster had sent Kara Lena’s student email address, and they coordinated a time and place to conduct the interview. The faculty offices around Snapper’s had a small conference room that was rarely used, so Kara managed to get permission to use it one Thursday afternoon.

                She had just finished up going through her set of questions and checking her recording setup – a perk of being a journalist was that you had access to some really, really nice voice recorders. Her brow furrowed, trying to figure out how to turn the darn thing on, when her concentration was interrupted by a knock on the doorframe.

                “Hi. Are you Kara Danvers, by any chance?”

                Kara stood abruptly, accidentally knocking her rolling office chair back a few feet. “Hi! Yes, that’s me. You must be Lena!”

                “That’s me.”

                Lena was dressed as any other college student – subtle jewelry statements aside. Her dark hair was long, hanging loose over toned shoulders. Eyes a few shades darker than the courts she played on, and definitely the type to need to wear sunscreen if she played outside.

                “Should we start, then?”

                “Oh! Yeah, sorry. Just take a seat anywhere. Do you mind being recorded? It makes it a little easier to focus on the topics instead of having to write everything down.”

                “That’s fine.”

                Lena ended up taking one of the seats against the far wall, facing the door. Kara sat at the end of the table nearest the entrance.

                “Have you had any interviews before, Lena?”

                Lena scoffs. “Plenty.”

                “Oh, okay. In that case this should be a breeze for you,” Kara started, pushing her glasses back up her face. “Alright! Just give me a second – I still haven’t managed to figure out how to turn this recorder on…”

                After about a minute of Lena watching Kara struggle with the device, a pale hand entered Kara’s vision.

                “May I?”

                Kara shrugs. “Have at it.”

                Lena studied the device closely for a few moments, before sliding a mechanism and causing a red light to turn on.

                “You did it! Thank you!”

                “It’s no problem.”

                “Alright. So, Lena. I’ve read a little bit about your past history and how you got into tennis – but how did you wind up at NCU? What made you want to become a City Cougar?”

                “Well…”

/

                “…and that’s one example of how physics comes in handy when strategizing against your opponent,” Lena finished.

                When Kara asked about how Lena utilized her “Three ‘S’” approach to the game, she didn’t expect such a detailed (nor lengthy) monologue of passion of the sport. Neither did she know what eighty percent of the terms Lena used even meant.

                _Oh shoot, she stopped talking._

                “Kara? Are you alright?”

                “What? Oh, yes. Perfectly fine. Remind me what a volley is again?”

                “It’s when you strike the ball before if touches the ground on your side of the net. Typically done near the net but can be done further down court. Are you sure you’re okay?”

                “Yeah, yeah,” Kara waves her off. “It’s just a lot of terms. They’re hard to learn when you’ve never played.”

                “You’ve never played?”

                Kara glances down, sheepish. “No.”

                “We should fix that.”

                “We should?”

                “We should.”

                “Oh, okay.”

                Lena visibly chokes back a laugh. “Come by the team practice this Saturday around ten. I’ll teach you afterwards. In the meantime though, you might get some good action shots if you have access to a camera.”

                “That’s… that’s actually a really good idea. It’s a date – er, a plan. Thanks, Lena. I owe you one.”

                “Nonsense. I’d much rather get my name out for my love of tennis than whatever scheme my family creates next.”

                Kara barks out an uncomfortable laugh, while Lena smiles apologetically. They shake hands, and Lena walks out the door.

                “Oh, and Kara?” Lena’s head pokes back in the door. “Wear something you can move in.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. Gonna stretch this out into three chapters instead of two.  
> This one's kinda just filler/plot? Hope you still enjoy tho <3
> 
> On Tumblr @uhb-sessed

                It was Friday night. Kara was sitting in her dorm room, thighs being warmed by the blanket and laptop on top of them.

                “Oh shoot,” she whispers to herself as she drops some popcorn on her keyboard. Yeah, popcorn’s a little crunchy to eat and watch YouTube at the same time, but let’s be honest. Watching tennis videos on form and stance doesn’t really _need_ audio, does it?

                By the time her roommate comes back from wherever she was at midnight-thirty, Kara’s well invested in the physical aspect of tennis. And, let’s face it, slightly intimidated by all the athletic prowess that’s shown in each video too.

                It’s nearly two when she decided to finally shut down her laptop and go to bed, mind whirling with thoughts of what to expect the tennis practice to look like, what _her_ practice with _Lena_ will look like. _I wonder if she makes all those little grunt noises when she makes a hit? Oh god, that sounded gay. Or like she likes drugs. Does she like drugs? Oh, I hope she isn’t using performance enhancers. That would ban her from the tourney, wouldn’t it? Those athletes who did though, holy cow. They didn’t even looked like they needed it.._

/

                She wakes early, far earlier than she’s used to for a Saturday. Though she tends to rise with the sun, her body tends to know the days where it’s allowed to rest for a bit longer.

                Throwing the warm covers off her body, she slowly moves around the room, gathering her supplies for the day. A gym bag, water bottle, a pair of sneakers. Next to that she has a soft carrying case for a camera she was able to check out on behalf of her friend and co-worker, James Olsen – a photojournalist. (He was sure to give her a crash course on it first.)

                Running a brush through her messy bedhead hair, she ran through a mental checklist. _Deodorant? Check. Extra hairbrush? Check. Water bottle? Check. Voice recorder? Uhh, double check that._

/

                Kara made it out to the tennis courts a few minutes before ten, the team already set up and going through a set of stretches led by one of the athletes. It didn’t seem like there were any students casually playing, ( _maybe it’s too early?_ ) so she shuffled over to the bleachers being as inconspicuous as she could.

The girls started counting their stretches out loud as Kara started to unzip the canvas camera bag. A metallic _clang_ on the base of the bleachers caused her to look up.

                “Hey, Kara. Made it to practice, huh?”

                “Oh, hey coach! Yeah, Lena suggested I come and take a few action shots of the team. Is that okay? I probably should’ve asked you first.”

                April shrugs. “It’s fine with me. Part of the student athlete contract includes a waiver on photos taken for college publicity use. I’d say this counts.”

                “Great, thanks.”

                “So,” she starts, turning around to half sit on the bleachers below the journalist, “how’d the interview go? I know they’re not Lena’s favorite.”

                “They’re not? She said she’s done a ton of them before.”

                “Yeah… they weren’t all for tennis. Dig a little deeper in your research and you’d know. Anyway, how did it go? She do alright?”

                “It went great! She has a lot of passion for tennis. I’m sure I’ll get to see that in action today. She even asked me if I’d want to learn, and I said yes, so she said she’s going to teach me after practice.”

                “Did she now?” April laughs. “Well have fun with that. I don’t think Lena's gone through the basic steps to anyone since her brother when she was eleven.”

                They both laugh.

                “Well, it’s not like I’d be able to tell if she’s teaching me something _wrong_ ,” Kara starts. “I have been watching some tennis videos online, and it’s hard to tell what everything means when you’re not actually the one doing it, y’know? I mentioned that to her and she seemed to agree. I think that’s why she said she’d be willing to teach me.”

                “I’m sure that’s part of it,” April winks, then stands up and blows her whistle. “Alright girls! Enough stretching! Line up and start on those serves!”

/

                Lena. Is. _Amazing._

                Her serves are perfect, her backhands, perfect. Even the way she wipes the sweat off her brow is-

                “ _Perfect_ ,” Kara mutters to herself.

                “What was that?” A voice behind her says.

                “AAH!”

                “Chill, Kara. Geez.”

                “Winn! When did you even get here?!”

                He shrugs. “I dunno. Like five minutes ago? I said hi and you just kept your eyeball in the camera. Guess you’re really into this tennis stuff, huh?”

                “I- uh, sure. Yeah.”

                He leans back. “Yeah, I guess it is pretty cool. I mean, life size ping-pong? Sign me up.”

                “Winn.”

                He laughs, hands up in a placating manner. “I’m joking, alright? Besides, I’m pretty sure if any of those girls heard me say that, they’d have my head.”

                “Why are you here, anyway?” Kara sets the camera down, turning to look at her friend more fully.

                “I didn’t have much else to do. James told me you’d be out here this morning so I figured I could come bug you and get some good ol’ vitamin D at the same time – get out of that basement computer lab they stick me in.”

 

                They sit there in silence for a bit longer, watching the athletes play as they’re split into teams and spread out on multiple courts. Lena’s on the one closest to the bleachers. Lena’s the one to call out the score: “15-Love,” “30-Love,” “30-15,” “40-15, game point!” “Good game!” At that point, Lena and her opponent walk towards the net and shake hands, starting to lowly talk about the set and what they could’ve done better.

                “Kara!” Lena calls. “Come here! I want you to meet Kiesha!”

                Kara carefully picks her way down the metal bleachers before walking out onto the green court, as Winn takes this as his cue to leave.

                “Kiesha, meet Kara. Kara, Kiesha. Kara’s the student journalist who was doing the interview a few days ago.”

                “Hi! It’s great to meet you. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it! My schedule is so sporadic – even I can’t keep up with it sometimes.”

                “Oh, that’s no problem. I understand. I mean, that was potsticker day in the cafeteria. Even I couldn’t skip class just to eat my favorite food.”

                Kiesha laughs and Lena cracks a smile.

                Kiesha bumps Lena’s elbow with her racket from the other side of the net. “I like her.” Turning her attention back to Kara, she speaks. “You ever play tennis before?”

                “Me? Ha! No, not really. Lena actually offered to teach me once your practice is over.”

                “Did she? That’s nice of her. I wish I could stay and help, but I’m meeting my study group. Good luck with Lena! She’s a hardass.”

                “Kiesha...”

                Kiesha laughs and sends Kara a wink. “We still love her though. She’s the best we got.”

                That causes Lena to blush.

                “Anyway, you two have a good time! I need food. I hate running line drills. I think coach did it just for me today ‘cause I was late. One minute late!” Arms gesturing wildly, racket in hand, she walks off towards a bench in-between courts.

                Lena turns to Kara, huffing slightly. “Alright, so shall we start in say, ten minutes? I just need to catch my breath and maybe eat something – refill my water bottle…”

                “Sure! Yeah, I have a few granola bars in my bag if you need some.”

                Lena waves her off. “That’s alright, I always have extra in my bag. You might want to start by doing some stretches though? I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

/

                Granola successfully munched, water guzzled, and hair thrown up out of her face, Kara slips off her windbreaker and lays it on top of her gym bag. She decided on wearing a light grey compression tank, with some neon pink athletic shorts. Her gym shoes just so happened to match both.

                She was swinging her arms and loosening her shoulders facing the fence when she heard a small gasp behind her. Kara swiveled her neck to see Lena standing there.

                “Lena, you’re back!”

                _More like_ your _back, am I right?_ Lena thought. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Took me a minute to find the ice machine. Are you sure you don’t work out?”

                “Oh, I work out. I’ve just never played tennis.”

                “Oh.”

                Lena looked as if she were in a daze.

                “Are you okay?”

                “Hmm? Yeah, fine. Are you ready?”

                “As I’ll ever be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Onward to chapter three!! (eventually)
> 
> Thoughts? More College AU prompts? Comment below!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile on this fic! This is a shorter chapter, but hey, it's something.
> 
> Hope you guys don't mind that I extended it a bit from 3 to 4 chapters; depending on how chapter 4 gets written there might be a chapter 5... lol
> 
> As always, HMU on Tumblr @Uhb-sessed!

                “Okay, so to hit a serve, there’s a few things to note”

                “Okay.”

                “Number one: hold the handle like you’re holding a hammer.”

                “A hammer?”

                “Yes. Just at a bit of an angle, like this.” Lena takes a step closer towards Kara, exaggerating the movement.

                “Okay, I think I got it.”

                “Holding it like this gives you a bit of spin on the ball. It takes practice to get used to it, but you’ll get better with time. Secondly, stance. Stand almost as if you’re going to hit a baseball, but without your chest being parallel to the plate, just offset a bit.”

                “Like this?”

                “Close! Turn just a little bit more… your other left, Kara. Other left.”

                “Oh.”

                “And then once you’ve got all that set up, just give the ball a nice toss,” Lena bounces a tennis ball a few times before tossing it upwards, “shift your weight back a bit and-“ _THWACK!_ “shift it forward, hit it high, and follow through!”

                Lena’s eyes had remained on the ball from toss to _THWACK_ , smiling slightly at herself for landing the ball in the opponent’s corner box.

                “Okay, I think I understand? But where do I aim?”

                “Don’t worry about that right now. Getting it over the net is step one.”

                Kara stepped up to the back serving line, as Lena stepped back to observe. She set her stance, followed by her grip. Bouncing the ball a few times, she tossed it upwards.

                “Whoo, nope!” The ball went too high and pitched forward onto the court.

                A few more tosses created the same result.

                “Here, let me try tossing one up for you.”

                Kara passed Lena the ball, watching her standing parallel to herself.

                “Ready? Three, two, one!”

                The ball went up.

                Kara tracked it with her eyes as best she could, then swung.

 

                Whiff.

 

                “Shoot.”

                “Serving is hard, don’t worry about it. We could try something else. Volleys are a good place.”

                “Sure, let’s try that.”

/

                “Ack!”

                “Kara, use the racket, not your face! Are you okay?”

                Kara was bent over, a hand over her face, more specifically her nose. She could hear Lena’s quick footsteps draw close.

                “Kara?”

                “I’m good, just… shocked?” Kara mumbled through her hand, eyes closed, trying to breathe.

                A subtle nylon rubbing noise sounded, followed by a gentle hand resting on her back. _Lena must have stepped over the net_.

                “A tennis ball to the face hurts, I know,” Lena halfway laughs. “I’ve had them a few times.”

                As Kara started to stand upright again, Lena shifted to stand in front of her.

                “Let me see.” Kara’s hands were gently pried off her face.

                Kara’s eyes stared into Lena’s, noting the flecks of concern in the green as they took in her bruising face.

                “No bleeding, so that’s good,” Lena starts. She gently tilts Kara’s face towards the sunshine. “Looks like it’s starting to bruise a little already, we should probably ice it soon. Are your glasses okay? Kara?”

                Lena’s eyes flicked back up to the blonde’s, noting they were closed. “Kara?”

                “Sorry. The sun just felt nice,” Kara finally responds.

                “You had me worried for a second there. Sometimes I swing too hard and I don’t mean to. I’m really sorry I hit you.”

                “That’s on me, probably. I get distracted easily. Oh! My glasses!” Kara slides her glasses off her face, holding them close to her eyes to survey for damage. “I think they’re okay. I think my nose got the brunt of it.”

                Lena led Kara over to a bench by the fence, taking her bag off of it to make room for Kara to sit.

                “I’ll be right back, okay? I’m going to get some ice from the ice machine.”

                Kara sent a thumbs up, her other hand occupied with prodding her face again.

 

                “Hey, I’m back! Kara, stop messing with your face.”

                “But it feels funny!”

                “Never would’ve guessed. Here, put this on your face.” Lena handed Kara a plastic bag of ice wrapped in a small towel.

                “Thanks.”

                They were silent for a few moments, before Lena decided to do some stretching to cool down. Kara leaned her head back to rest against the somewhat uncomfortable chain-link fence.

                “Does this happen often?” Kara asks.

                “Depends on the player,” Lena shrugs. “Newer players are more likely than someone like me. Though that’s not an exception. Sometimes people hit surprise shots and you don’t have enough time to react.”

                “When’s the last time you got hit in the face?”

                Lena paused in-between stretches, thinking. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe two years ago? I was at an open in Central City, my opponent hit a shot I didn’t think she could make. I thought I’d scored the point and let down my guard when, _pffkg_ ,” she imitates a ball smacking her cheek, “I get hit in the face. Someone clocked the speed of the ball but honestly I don’t remember what it was.”

                “Ouch.”

                “Yeah, ouch,” she laughs. “The scruffiness of the balls make it worse, in my opinion.”

/

                Lena watches as Kara attempts to balance the ice pack on her face without using her hands. It takes her a few minutes before she gets it, hearing Kara whisper a “ _yes!_ ” to herself as it then falls off again.

                By the time Kara manages to successfully balance it on her face again, Lena’s done with her stretches and has packed up both her and Kara’s bags back up.

                Lena gently kicks Kara’s foot with her own. “Come on, let’s get you to the nurse’s office.”

                “It’s just a bruised nose, it’ll be fine.”

                “Humor me.”

/

                When Kara exits the small, private medical room, Lena’s no longer there. Kara tries to shove down the surprising feeling of disappointment.

                She hefts her gym bag a little higher, thanks the receptionist for keeping an eye on it, and heads back to her dorm.

/

                After a quick shower, Kara starts unpacking her gym bag to throw everything into dirty laundry when she notices something stuck to her water bottle.

                A note.

                            _Kara,_

_Sorry I hit you with the tennis ball… but if you still want to learn to play, here’s my number._

_I hope to see you in the crowd next Saturday! Maybe by then your "tennis research" will help you with your article, feel free to ask me questions if you get confused on anything_

_~ Lena_

_P.S. I hope it wasn’t just me that got thirsty today. Thought this might be a good reminder ;)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Kara: ow_   
>  _Lena: ;)_   
>  _Kara: wow_
> 
> I recently posted a new chapter on my longer multichap, Make a Wish, Take a Chance! Feel free to go read that too!
> 
> And remember, I love prompts! Please suggest some!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter two coming soon!!!
> 
> (I don't know why my formatting never transfers the way it should, so if that annoyed you - I'm sorry. I tried to fix it <3)
> 
> Please leave a comment or yell at me on Tumblr @uhb-sessed


End file.
